How I Learnt To Skate

 

Every time I set out to write a new post, it always turns out to be as much fun as startling a porcupine. 

Trying to write something becomes almost impossible since the pressure to write something better gets to me leaving me an emotional wreck fighting a possible case of low self esteem and hopelessness. To add to this cesspool of low self esteem induced writer’s block, I usually have to fight certain influences in my life that if left unchecked would ruin my life as I know it. Being the self proclaimed writer I am, I prefer writing letters to these influences, hoping that in some way I will maintain control over my already twisted life. I have to admit, some of these letters are a bit unnecessary. 

Others are a bit weird.

And others are, well, necessary.

So to make sure that I find something to write, I have been forced to seek alternative forms of inspiration (something that doesn’t involve sniffing glue). This time I was however, lucky. It seems inspiration was bored and decided to look for something interesting and found me (yes, I am cool like that).

I had decided to go visit a friend and talk about…well, nothing just talk and somewhere between awkward silence and habitual clock checking, my friend’s small sister, as if noticing my state of despair asked me a question that would forever change my life, dreams and aspirations. While I prefer to hide behind my pen and write about (read make fun of) what other people do, the excitement got the best of me and I found myself doing something I wouldn’t imagine myself doing even if Jessica Alba walked out of the ocean in her blue bikini and whispered in my ear (that was weirdly specific), did I say Jessica Alba? I meant girlfriend.

Anyway, my friend’s sister comes to me and asks, “You want to go outside and skate?” “Skate? Did she just say skate? As in S.K.A.T.E. skate?” I was so excited that I forgot the fact that I had never touched a pair of skates in my life, let alone skate. It was just like Jessica Alba had walked out of the ocean in her blue bikini, held me by the hand and asked me to play Call of Duty on PlayStation 3 with her (Do not make that face, the only thing better than  Jessica Alba is Jessica Alba playing video games with me)…again, I meant girlfriend.

At this point I was falling into a bottomless pit of childlike excitement. In less than 45 seconds I had pictured myself in the Olympics, beating all the racers, forget the fact that they had skated professionally probably since they were toddlers while I had skated  for months (at least in my head I had) winning medals and becoming the greatest skater of all time.

A few moments later I was brought back to earth by an eleven year old girl who could not understand why this adult was behaving like a monkey on steroids at the sight of skates. After putting on her skates, she helped me put mine on amid my unnecessary attempts to “help”. I think one of the reasons why skates excited me so much was because the looked like Robocop’s boots, and touching the robot cop’s shoes was like touching an angel’s wings. She then helped me get on my feet and this is where my dreams came crashing down into a million shards of disappointment forming a loathing for skating and all things on wheels. For the first several minutes I could not move. I looked like a dinosaur giving piggy back rides.

“Form a ‘V’ with your feet and walk towards me.” She said. “How about I take this evil contraptions off and walk away from you?!” “What?” she asks, “nothing” I say as I try and walk towards her like a duck at a Texas show down. All of a sudden I can’t move since my brain is clogged with rumblings coming from my mouth, which I think were prayers. It finally hits me; the only thing between me and death is 6 tiny wheels. “I am going to die!” “I am going to die!”  “I am going to die!” the constant recital of the fact that I think I am going to die increasingly frustrates my pre-teen tutor. “Shut up and walk towards me!!!” she says, her voice sounding like a demon possessed can opener.

By the time she's frustrated I've moved from being bald to an afro

Okay, one leg at a time, just like walking and…I was walking!!! “You see, you can skate.” She says as she glides around me like a freaking dandelion in the freaking wind. 

“Soon you’ll be skating like me…” No, soon you’ll be standing next to my hospital bed with doctors debating on how to put a cast on my broken butt!

A few tries later and I’m almost skating. My tutor looks pleased but I am pretty sure there’s a difference between skating and removing gum from the soles of my shoes. A few minutes later another friend comes and I am more than glad to take off the skates. I hand them over to him. No sooner does he put them on than I start yelling… “Form a ‘V’ with your feet and walk towards me.”